Best Laid Plans
by The Original Geek
Summary: Gibbs is back, Tony's drunk and Fornell's feeling guilty. Minor spoilers for Hiatus Part 2, Shalom and Escaped. Third in the "A Beautiful Friendship" series.


Here's the third installment of my ToTo-verse series. While it may help to have read _Thinking Outside the Box_ and _Take Me Out to the Ballgame_ first, I think this can stand as a standalone story. This one was hard for me to write; at least the ending was, and I'm not entirely sure I'm happy with it, but I hope you enjoy it. Comments and constructive criticism are welcomed, as are suggestions for other ToTo-verse stories you'd like to see.

* * *

><p>Tobias Fornell sighed as he walked into Ellington's. Sam, the owner and bartender of the jazz club he and Tony frequented on occasion, had called him to let him know that the other man was there and well on his way to being passed out drunk. Not that he blamed Tony; he'd heard what had gone down at NCIS earlier that day from a fellow agent who'd happened to be there at the time, and he couldn't help feeling a bit responsible. After all, it was his call that had brought Jethro back to DC again. He had a bad feeling that Tony would share that sentiment and wouldn't be too receptive to him being there, but he hoped he was wrong.<p>

Those hopes were dashed a few minutes later when Sam led him to his office, where he'd put Tony until Fornell showed up.

"Toby!" Tony said when he saw the other man. Fornell winced. Tony hadn't called him that since he found out why Fornell disliked it so much. That he was using it now was a bad sign. Tony's next words confirmed it. "Sam, you know my buddy Toby, right? Wait, no. Thought he was my buddy, but he doesn't trust me to help him. Toby doesn't trust me, Ziva doesn't trust me, Gibbs doesn't trust me," Tony rambled on, his words slurring together, before putting his head on his arms.

Fornell sighed again. "Thanks, Sam. I'll take care of him from here." Sam looked like he was regretting his decision to call the FBI agent, and Fornell felt like he had to say something. "Hey, I trust him. I didn't want to get him involved in my mess, okay?"

Sam still looked sceptical but helped him get Tony on his feet. "Maybe you need to tell him that, ya think?"

Fornell just nodded as he led Tony to his car. He decided to take the NCIS agent back to his own apartment as it was closer than Fornell's house. Unfortunately, by the time they reached Tony's place, Tony had passed out and Fornell ended up having to sling the other man over his shoulders in a fireman's carry to get him into the elevator.

Once he got Tony into his apartment he laid the other man on the bed and stripped him down to his boxer shorts before covering him with a quilt. He made sure that there was water and a bottle of Aspirin on Tony's night table, and that the wastebasket was beside his bed, just in case. He couldn't help but smile at the symmetry between his actions tonight and Tony's actions of a few years ago, when their positions were reversed and Fornell had been the one in a drunken stupor.

His smile faded as his thoughts turned to just how he was going to repair his friendship with Tony. What he had told Sam was the truth; he hadn't asked Tony for help because he didn't want to get his friend involved in his mess. And, since it was also Gibbs' mess, it only seemed logical to get the man involved. Fornell snorted softly to himself as that thought went through his mind. Who was he kidding? He was forced to admit that a part of him hoped if he got Gibbs involved the other man would realise that he'd made a mistake and come home, as much for Tony's sake as his own. As it turned out, he thought, he was the one who made the mistake. If he'd had any idea that Gibbs would do what he did, would come back the way he had, he never would have shown up in the other man's basement.

Well, at least he could fix that. Knowing that Tony would be sleeping off the alcohol he'd drank for several hours at least, Fornell grabbed the other man's apartment keys and headed out into the night. Twenty minutes later he was outside Gibbs' home. He took a deep breath and opened the door. He could see a light coming from the basement and headed downstairs to find Gibbs sanding his boat, a jar of bourbon on the bench behind him. Fornell paused for a moment, trying to rein in his anger.

"Something on your mind, Tobias?" Gibbs asked, glancing at him.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Tobias growled, his anger rising again. "Jesus, Jethro, if I'd know you were going to screw over DiNotzo like that I would have handled things on my own."

Surprise followed by a quick flash of shame washed over Gibbs' face before his expression settled into a mask of indifference. "You tryin' to tell me how to run my team, Tobias?" he said softly, a hint of anger in his voice.

"Wasn't aware it was still your team, Jethro. Last I heard you 'retired'," the FBI agent said, using his fingers to form quotation marks as he ground out the last word, "and left Tony in charge. Not that the rest of your team got the message," he finished, his disappointment at the situation colouring his tone.

Gibbs' eyes narrowed at Fornell's use of Tony's first name. "Wasn't aware that you and DiNozzo were so close, Fornell. He come crying to you?"

Fornell thought his anger couldn't get any hotter, but Gibbs' sneering inference set him off. "Don't try to put this on him, Jethro! One of our guys was at NCIS today when you pulled off your triumphal return and couldn't wait to regale the office with the story," Tobias growled. "Tony's never said anything to me about what's been happening at work, but I've got eyes and I've got ears." Before he could stop himself, the words were tumbling out of his mouth at breakneck speed. "Yeah, we're friends. Have been for more than a while now. I've seen how tired he is, heard his so-called team-mates in the background when he's called to cancel yet another dinner or something 'cause he has to stay at the office until the wee hours of the morning yet again."

"He did a good job while you were off on your Mexican siesta, Jethro; he didn't deserve to…" Fornell's voice trailed off as he ran out of steam. Gibbs' expression was stony, and Fornell couldn't tell what he was thinking. "Y'know what, Jethro, forget it. Forget I was even here," he said, hoping fervently that he hadn't just made things worse for Tony. "You're right. How you run your team is up to you. Just like how I run mine and who I have on it is up to me." As he turned and walked out of the basement, the FBI agent didn't miss how Gibbs' eyes narrowed at his final words. _Good,_ _let __him__ chew__ on __that __one __for __a __while_, he thought.

When he got back to Tony's place he found the younger man sleeping soundly, his hand clutching the quilt Fornell had covered him with. Somewhat reassured, Fornell went to the guestroom, leaving both doors slightly open so he could hear if the other man needed help during the night.

Tony was still sleeping when Fornell got up the next morning. He'd slept surprisingly well – or maybe not so surprisingly given that Tony's fondness for high-end mattresses and high thread count sheets extended to his guest bedroom as well as his own. He dressed in sweatpants and sweatshirt from the go-bag he'd retrieved from his car last night, hoping that he could convince Tony to go for a run when he woke up. If he could get the other man to even talk to him in the first place, that was. He made himself comfortable at the kitchen table and started flipping through Tony's copy of the Washington Post, waiting for the other man to wake up. A short time later he heard Tony get up and make his way to the kitchen, speaking with someone on the phone as he did.

"I said I was sorry, Jeanne. One of the kids was having a crisis and I had to stick around and help him out. By the time we'd talked things through it was too late to call," Tony was saying as he walked into the kitchen, his voice tight and controlled. He stopped dead when he saw Fornell and frowned. "Listen, Jeanne, I'm tied up today with this, and I know you're on shift tonight. Maybe I can take you out to dinner tomorrow night to make up for it?" He listened a moment longer and then relaxed; whatever the person on the other end of the line was saying obviously reassured him. "Sounds good. Have a good shift tonight," he finished softly before hanging up the phone.

Fornell raised an eyebrow. "Didn't know you were seeing someone, Tony," he said, wondering how Tony had found the time not only to meet someone, but also to carry on a relationship.

A strange look crossed Tony's face, one that Fornell couldn't quite identify. "It's...complicated," he said, moving to the fridge and pulling out the ingredients for his famous hangover cure. "What are you doing here, Fornell?" he asked after chugging the vile-looking green mixture.

Fornell winced internally. Tony's voice was bland and disinterested, his masks firmly in place. _This__ wasn__'__t __going __to__ be __easy,_ he thought. Over the past few years Tony had dropped a lot of the masks he wore around Fornell, but now it seemed that they were back up again. "Look, Tony, I didn't want to get you involved. This was my mess, not the FBI's and definitely not NCIS'. I didn't want you to get in to trouble for helping me out. You're having a hard enough time at work as it is."

"Hey, I understand, Fornell," Tony said, his voice sad. "Gibbs has been your friend a lot longer than me, and even with the pornstache from hell he's a hell of a sight better agent than I am. You think I don't know that? I know that you couldn't trust just anyone with Emily's safety. Can't say I blame you," Tony finished softly, turning away from Fornell.

Fornell was dismayed at the level of self-disgust he heard in Tony's voice and appalled that he had contributed to it. He grabbed Tony's arm and spun him around. "Dammit, Tony!" he yelled. "I thought if he came back it would take the strain off you. That things would go back to the way they were. That he'd see how the others were treating you and do something about it. That you'd finally have someone there for you again. I didn't know he was going to be such a jackass about it!"

Tony stared at Fornell for a moment and then broke into laughter. Fornell watched in confusion as he continued laughing for a few more seconds before winding down. "Thanks, Fornell, I needed that," Tony finally said, wiping his eyes, Then, feeling Fornell's confused gaze still on him, he sighed. "This is going to be one of those conversations, isn't it?" he asked. "Look, Tobias, I get why he left, I really do, and I don't blame him for it. Hell, I even get why he came back the way he did. Second 'B' for 'Bastard', remember? One thing Gibbs has never liked is change and by coming back this way, it's his way of saying nothing's changed," he finished wryly.

"But things did change, Tony," Fornell argued. He was pleased that Tony had called him by his full first name; maybe there was hope for their friendship. "He quit. You led the team, and did a damn good job, not that anyone there told you that."

"Jenny did, and Jimmy Palmer," Tony said softly. A dark look flashed across his face. "Ziva and McGee are thrilled Gibbs is back, of course. So's Abby."

Fornell was surprised. He knew that McGee and David hadn't respected Tony's leadership, but he thought that Scuito, as one of Tony's oldest friends, would have been supportive. Apparently he'd missed that particular issue.

"Anyway, I said that I understood, not that I was happy about it," Tony said. "That's part of the reason for last night."

Fornell grimaced. He knew what was coming. "And the other part?" he asked cautiously. Tony shot him a look that clearly said _don__'__t__ be __an __idiot_. "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry, Tony, I really am. I didn't mean to make you feel like that," he said. For a moment he thought Tony was going to tell him not to apologise, that it was a sign of weakness, but Tony just smiled and nodded his head, accepting the apology gracefully.

"So," Tony said, eyeing the other man, "you look like you're kitted up to go running. Want some company?"

And with that, it seemed, Fornell was forgiven. He knew that he still had a lot to make up to Tony; knew that at some point he would need to tell Tony about going to Gibbs' house the night before, but for now he was just happy that their friendship hadn't been irreparably ruined.

"Sure, Tony. I'll even buy lunch at Ellington's afterwards," Fornell said, knowing that Sam would want to see that the other man was okay. And just maybe, he thought as he waited for Tony to change, he'd float the idea of Tony coming to work with for the FBI more seriously this time.


End file.
